[Last updated: 25/03/17] This is a list of every Bastille song we know about!
If you can’t find a copy of anything in the list, feel free to message me and I can probably hook you up. At the bottom of the list I’ve also included songs by Dan Smith before Bastille formed and songs he created with Ralph PelleyMounter.
If I’ve missed anything please reply/message me so I can update the list! I’ll be updating it periodically anyway with new stuff they release.
me, signing up for a course on Early Celtic legends: Oh Boy I Can’t Wait To Learn Everything This Class Has To Offer And Expand My Knowledge And Write About The Many Fascinating Attributes Of This Culture!!!
also me, 11pm on the night before the paper is due, looking at a blank document: fuck the early irish and their satanic love of Lists
Gagosian will be participating at the Melbourne Art Book Fair 2017, National Gallery of Victoria International, Melbourne, Australia.
The fair will take place from March 16 through March 19, 2017.
From March 16–19, the third Melbourne Art Book Fair engages an exciting range of national and international art publishers, together with a dynamic program of free talks, forums, and performances around the topic of art publishing. This year the special focus is on art book practices in contemporary photography and typography. Entry to the fair is free.
Gagosian returns to the fair with a selection of new and best-selling titles, including Taryn Simon: Paperwork and the Will of Capital, Michael Andrews: Earth Air Water, Howard Hodgkin: In the Pink, Alex Israel and Bret Easton Ellis, Avedon | Warhol, Line into Color, Color into Line: Helen Frankenthaler, Paintings 1962–1987.
The first issue of the new and improved Gagosian Quarterly magazine, designed by acclaimed London-based design studio Graphic Thought Facility, will also be revealed. The lushly illustrated, large-format periodical published by Gagosian links the global artists and exhibition program to a broader distribution network via exclusive features, including interviews, texts, previews, and special artist projects. The spring 2017 issue includes a special Picasso feature, an interview with Jeff Koons, Katharina Grosse writing on Cy Twombly, Alex Israel and Bret Easton Ellis in conversation with Hans Ulrich Obrist, and much more.
I There are the Serious Thinkers– There ought to be a law against them. They see life, as through shell-rimmed glasses, darkly. They are always drawing their weary hands Across their wan brows. They talk about Humanity As if they had just invented it; They have to keep helping it along. They revel in strikes And they are eternally getting up petitions. They are doing a wonderful thing for the Great Unwashed– They are living right down among them. They can hardly wait For “The Masses” to appear on the newsstands, And they read all those Russian novels– The sex best sellers.
II There are the Cave Men– The Specimens of Red-Blooded Manhood. They eat everything very rare, They are scarcely ever out of their cold baths, And they want everybody to feel their muscles. They talk in loud voices, Using short Anglo-Saxon words. They go around raising windows, And they slap people on the back, And tell them what they need is exercise. They are always just on the point of walking to San Francisco, Or crossing the ocean in a sailboat, Or going through Russia on a sled– I wish to God they would!
III And then there are the Sensitive Souls Who do interior decorating, for Art’s sake. They always smell faintly of vanilla And put drops of sandalwood on their cigarettes. They are continually getting up costume balls So that they can go As something out of the “Arabian Nights.” They give studio teas Where people sit around on cushions And wish they hadn’t come. They look at a woman languorously, through half-closed eyes, And tell her, in low, passionate tones, What she ought to wear. Colour is everything to them–everything; The wrong shade of purple Gives them a nervous breakdown.
IV Then there are the ones Who are Simply Steeped in Crime. They tell you how they haven’t been to bed For four nights. They frequent those dramas Where the only good lines Are those of the chorus. They stagger from one cabaret to another, And they give you the exact figures of their gambling debts. They hint darkly at the terrible part That alcohol plays in their lives. And then they shake their heads And say Heaven must decide what is going to become of them– I wish I were Heaven!